Caryl One Shot Collection
by word-gman
Summary: A series of one shots based around Daryl Dixon and Carol Peletier. AKA Caryl. AKA my babies. All of these stories come from prompts that you lovely people have given me.
1. Thirteen Days

Thirteen days.

That's how long it had been since Daryl and Carol had left the prison on what was supposed to be a simple hunt. Thirteen days since the rest of the group had seen either one of them. After the first few days, Rick had gone out to look for them with Michonne, but there was no sign of them. They hardly stood a chance of finding them either way, seeing as Daryl was the tracker of the group. It was as though they were simply blind in the woods, with no trail to guide them to their missing friends. Truth be told that by the thirteenth day, Rick had called quits on the search.

Carol herself was completely aware of just how long they had been stuck in the woods. Holed up in a small cave surrounded by walkers, she had marked each day with a small nail on the rough stone walls, much to the amusement of Daryl.

"We aint gonna be stuck here for years." He had scoffed when she had started her tally. "We'll be back at the prison before sundown."

That was seven days ago, and they still weren't back. Granted, they had left the small cave they had been cooped up in for so long, but heading for the woods was no better. That was what had put them in danger in the first place. Neither of them had ever seen a herd of walkers so big on the day they left the prison, having to run for an hour straight to find somewhere to hide. The cave they had found wasn't exactly ideal, but Daryl had found a small passage they could crawl through that walkers wouldn't be able to find. They were safe, at least until the herd left. It wasn't until today, that had happened.

"Didn't I tell you we'd get out of here safe?" Daryl mused, taking Carol's hand to help her over a large group of rocks at the front of the cave. Carol smiled and nodded, not letting go of his hand.

"Never doubted you for a second." She smiled, watching the corners of his mouth quirk up in a short grin that he hid very quickly.

He was never one to show how he felt with words. Even four days ago, he had finally let Carol know how he felt, but it wasn't through words. It was through a simple look from across the cold stone floor, a small shift towards where the petite woman was lying, a general understanding that if anything was to happen, now was the perfect time. Carol could still feel his callous hands against her skin, the gentle pounding of her heart against his rapid beating of his, a feeling of infinite happiness that rendered the past year or so into nothingness. He was awkward and he was embarrassed, just as she thought he would be, but it didn't matter.

There were no walkers in sight as they made their way toward the prison. What was strange was Daryl's inability to figure out which way to go. Carol was worried, keeping a hold of the younger man's hand, a sharp eye out for walkers. He seemed distant, a little confused as he lead the way. Maybe it was the crossbow. He had lost it in a scuffle with a group of walkers only a few hours ago, after wandering outside to see if today was the day they could finally leave. He had come back into the cave looking a little worse for wear, an angry expression plastered on his face.

"Damn walker snapped it in half." He had growled, pacing around the cave madly, a deep gash on his right arm. "Knocked me down then trampled all over it. Good as nuthin now."

"Forget the crossbow. Let me look at your arm." Carol had mused, before taking a look at the deep gash with concern. Daryl had of course given in, sitting himself down in the cave with a grimace as Carol used her headscarf to lessen the pain. She could feel his eyes burning through her, more so than ever before.

"You're safe now Carol. The walkers are gone, you can go back to the prison."

"_We_ can go back." She had replied, her eyes remaining focused on the gash in his arm. It had been quite deep, but it didn't really matter with Daryl. It could have torn half his arm off and he still would have done everything in his power to get Carol back to that prison. True to his word the walkers had disappeared completely only a few hours later, leaving them with a clear path back. Carol found it rather peculiar and briefly wandered what it was the zombies were distracted by, but she let it go with the thought that her and Daryl were both okay. They were more than okay.

After over an hour of walking, Carol was getting worried. Daryl was getting more and more lost as time went on, as though he was simply leading the two of them in circles. Daryl himself was acting odd. He wasn't overly talkative at the best of times, yet now he seemed to want nothing more than to discuss everything that had happened between them in the past thirteen days. Subconsciously, this was exactly what Carol wanted. She wanted to remember each and every moment they had shared, as she feared that their arrival at the prison would bring with it the loss of their connection.

She wanted to remember the first night in the cave, where Daryl had promised her everything would be okay and rested his hand on her shoulder for only a brief minute. It was a simple gesture, but enough to make her believe that he was right. She wanted to remember the fourth day, where the moans of the walkers outside the cave had been drowned out by their laughter over remembering the night they got relatively drunk at the CDC. And of course, she wanted to remember the night that Daryl had clumsily kissed her, their bodies becoming a tangled mess of limbs within seconds. It was at that point she truly believed that for the first time in a long time, she was okay. And now, letting go of that easy feeling was almost too much to bear.

"Daryl." Carol spoke quietly over the sound of their footsteps trudging through the woods. "What's going to happen when we get back?"

Daryl turned around right away, not letting go of Carol's hand as he gave her a smile.

"I'll never leave you, Carol."

They were the words she had wanted to hear for months now. The words that Daryl was before, seemingly incapable of admitting. That was why the peaceful easy feeling within Carol began to stir, and the first notion of panic set a chill through her very core. But instead of letting her worry show, she nodded her head and gave him a small smile, the two of them continuing toward the prison.

"Why don't you know where you're going?" She mumbled quietly, not sure who she was talking to anymore. This time, Daryl didn't turn around. He simply squeezed her hand softly and continued forward.

"You know exactly where you are, Carol."

Maybe he was right. He had spent a lot of time showing her around the woods throughout their time at the prison. She knew her right from her left, and she could tell if someone had been in a certain area recently. The two of them had recently dedicated an entire afternoon to how to tell if there were walkers in the area. It was strange how much she had learnt from the man whom she once considered to be no good, redneck trash. He had taught her more than anyone had her entire life.

For the first time in her life, she knew exactly where she was. In a place where nothing mattered except that there was somebody by her side who completely understood her. Allowed her to vent her feelings when he probably had no idea what to say. Held her close, despite his reluctance towards affection. Without thinking anymore about it, Carol continued on forward with Daryl by her side, with the thought that when they got back to the prison _he would never leave her. _

"How's your arm feeling?" Carol asked after a while, peering over his shoulder to check how the wound was holding up. It looked much better than it had before, impossibly so. It was as though the deep cut was never even there in the first place. Carol unwrapped her headscarf from his forearm and stuffed it in her pocket, marvelling at how clear the skin was underneath.

"How did that-"

"I feel fine." Daryl interrupted, the smile returning to his face as he turned around and grasped Carol by the shoulders, he eyes burning a hole into her own. "I'm fine. I told you I'd keep you safe. So that's what I'm doing."

"Something's going on with you." Carol shook her head in complete disbelief, the wave of panic coming back as Daryl's hands remained firmly pressed on her shoulders. "I need you to make some sense Daryl, you're not making any sense right now."

His look didn't waver for a second as he smiled, his eyes skimming over her face as though his thoughts were frantic, yet patient.

"You're so beautiful."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he had turned around and held his arms out in front of him. Standing directly in their line of vision, was the prison. Carol couldn't help her elated grin as she locked eyes with Rick, who immediately began sprinting towards the front gate. Carol found tears rushing down her cheeks as she and Daryl headed towards the front gate at a high speed, giddy with excitement. Startled by the thought of being back with the group, yet worried that she and Daryl would lose whatever it is they have. But she couldn't even think about that right now, rushing right into the outstretched arms of Rick.

"Thank God." Rick sighed heavily, his arms wrapped tightly around Carol's torso as though he never thought he would see her again. Carol looked over his shoulder to where Daryl was standing, watching the two of them with a faraway smile on his face.

"Told ya you'd make it back." Daryl put simply, shuffling his feet a little as he stared at the ground. In that moment, Carol could have sworn that nothing could be any better. They were safe, they were fine. The past thirteen days had brought with it something beautiful, despite the ordeal they had gone through having to hide away. Everything was okay.

And then it happened.

"Where's Daryl?"

Rick's words rang through Carol's head like an alarm that refused to be turned off. All at once she felt dizzy, bile rising in her throat as she turned to where Daryl had been standing. But he wasn't there.

"He's…"

"Carol? Hey, Carol? Stay with me now."

Rick was suddenly far away. Everything was far away. Her thoughts began to slip away as she felt herself falling to the ground, her knees giving away from underneath her. Rick couldn't help her. Nobody could.

"_It's been thirteen days." Daryl said quietly, his voice bouncing off the cave walls. "Bout time we leave this place."_

"_Aren't you enjoying yourself?" Carol replied, the two of them smirking a little as they remembered their endeavours from the previous nights. Daryl shook his head and stood up, wandering over to the front of the cave to the crawl space. _

"_If it was that good in here, imagine a bed." He trailed off, making his way through the small gap to check if the coast was finally clear for the two of them to leave. It was about time, after all. Carol was left sitting with her back against the cave wall, her mind filled with only happy thoughts. _

"Rick? Rick what's wrong with her? Where's Daryl?" It was Maggie who was yelling from behind the prison gates, but it was nothing more than a faint whisper to Carol.

_The yells came after only a few minutes. It struck up a fear so deadly within Carol, she could do nothing but remain rooted to the spot for a second. After all, it wasn't common to hear Daryl sound as though he was in danger._

"She's in shock. We gotta get her inside."

But Carol couldn't move.

_She made her way over to the crawl space as fast as humanly possible, throwing her entire weight through the tunnel until she had reached the opening. And less than five metres away was Daryl, staring her right in the eyes as one of the walkers took an inch of flesh from his neck. His right forearm had already been torn apart, looking as though it had been a surprise attack from one of the fifteen walkers that had surrounded him._

"_Get back inside, now." He demanded through short breaths, as he still managed to somehow take down three of the walkers around him. "I'll drive them away. Wait an hour then go. You needa make it back to the prison Carol. You have to."_

"_No." She had mumbled silently, backing up slowly towards the entrance of the cave. "No, no, no, God, please not him. Please, not him. Daryl, I need you! I need you!"_

"_I'll be with you." He choked out, his eyes pooled with tears for what seemed like the first time. "I always will be Carol, just get the hell back inside!"_

_She couldn't do anything but follow his instructions, falling back into the cave without a last glance. It was then that she felt herself lose consciousness, whether it be lack of food, lack of water, or lack of him._

If there was one thing Carol knew about Daryl Dixon, it was that he told the truth. In the past thirteen days, she had learnt more about him than she suspected anybody had in their entire life. That was true. And as she felt herself being picked up and carried by Rick towards the front of the prison, she saw Daryl leaning against the gate with a huge smile on his face.

He would always be with her. That was true too.


	2. An awkward moment

It was after dark when Carol and Maggie finally trudged inside the prison after a day of planting crops, covered in dirt and sweat from the activity. The two women thought it would be nice to make the prison more homely, and were lucky enough to find some seedlings in a local greenery store on a recent run. It remained to be seen whether or not the plants would grow in the untamed grass, but for Carol it was a welcome escape.

After leaving Maggie in the company of Glenn, Carol wandered to the shower block with a change of clothes and a towel, trying to stay quiet as the rest of the prison was more than likely asleep. One of the perks of staying in the prison during an apocalypse was that it ran on its own water system, so the group still had the luxury of a hot shower. She threw her towel over the door and let the water rush over her, forgetting about everything for a rare few minutes.

Down the hall, Daryl was lazily trudging through the hallway with his crossbow, heading up to the guard tower where he was to take over watch duty for Rick. He was still half asleep, having dozed off right after dinner, which was what prompted him to quickly head down to the showers and run some hot water on his face. It was something Merle had done every time he woke up after a big night out, one of the few helpful things his brother had taught him.

Daryl wandered into the bathroom and placed his crossbow by the door, closing the door behind him as he half sleepwalked towards the showers. It was only when he heard the rushing water that he stopped in his tracks, a familiar silhouette ever so visible through the shower curtain. If he wasn't already certain of who it was, the sweet sound of her voice echoing through the room singing an old Beatles song was enough to let him know that he was staring at Carol showering. And he couldn't help but feel funny that instead of turning the other direction as fast as humanly possible, he found himself rooted to the spot, edging closer to the soft voice.

His heart started beating fast, familiar thoughts rushing through his mind that he always got when he thought of her. It suddenly didn't matter that he would look like a complete and utter creep, all he wanted to do was pull back that curtain and witness those soft limbs from an intimate perspective, rather than hidden behind a flimsy piece of fabric. The walls between the two of them were getting thinner, and maybe he was the one that had to tear them down.

From behind the curtain, Carol heard a sharp intake of breath less than a metre away from her. She stopped softly humming the Beatles tune and listened carefully, her ears being met with a loud stomping of boots hastily making their way towards the exit. Wrapping her towel around her hastily, she stepped out from the shower just in time to see somebody leave, although she couldn't make out who it was. But that question was answered for her, in the form of a crossbow sitting by the bathroom door.

Unable to face going back into the bathroom, Daryl told Rick that his crossbow needed mending and that he needed to borrow a gun. And then he vowed never to set foot in that bathroom again, at least not whilst Carol was in there, because he was 90% sure that next time he would simply rip that curtain right off the hinges. At least he didn't have to wash his face anymore; he was wide awake now.


End file.
